If Only
by LawliPop
Summary: [Sequel to 'Curiosity'] The oldest legends about mermaids warned of enchanting voices and creatures of ethereal beauty that tempted sailors to their deaths. They captivated and drowned their victims, and the idea that he might just willingly be following Haruka to his own watery grave sent chills down his spine.


_**Lawli:** By popular demand, here is the sequel to "Curiosity!" You don't necessarily have to read that first, but it might make a bit more sense if you did. Please enjoy and leave a review if you're feeling generous!_

_**Warnings**: Even more mermaid sex._

* * *

"_If only you could glimpse_

_The feeling that I feel_

_If only you would notice_

_What I'm dying to reveal_

_The dreams I can't declare_

_The needs I can't deny_

_You'd understand them all_

_If only you would try"_

'_If Only_,' The Little Mermaid (Broadway)

* * *

Makoto knew he needed to take action when he walked into the bathroom later that morning, after grabbing a fresh change of clothes, and found the merman biting into a bar of soap from the shower rack.

With a loud cry he snatched the soap out of the merman's hand, earning a shrill whistle of protest in response.

Trying to explain to the merman how the soap might be poisonous for him to ingest was a near impossible task that grated on even Makoto's nerves. As it turned out, what the merman actually knew of human speech was a smattering of odd words and phrases, in various languages, that must have been picked up through years of travel while swimming close to the shore. None of that proved useful in actually maintaining a conversation. Makoto had already endeavored to gather information about where the merman came from and if there were others like him, and in the end succeeded in little else but raising both their levels of frustration.

A short battle of tug-of-war resulted from Makoto's attempt at chastising, the merman clapping his small jaws all the while, and ended with Makoto's shirt yet again drenched in water but the soap at least tossed into the sink, a safe distance away from the merman's prying fingers.

"Stay," Makoto said, after removing his shirt and tossing it into the hamper. This was one word he knew the merman understood, but even still he thrust his upright palm in the creature's direction to drive the point home. Blue eyes darted to the sink and narrowed as if weighing the chances of reaching it. Makoto repeated with a bit more force, "stay," feeling very much as if he were attempting to train a particularly destructive and headstrong dog, and then backed out of the bathroom slowly.

For a moment he waited just on the other side of the door for any telltale splashing. A few hesitant clicks followed Makoto's departure, followed by a word in a language Makoto did not know, but nothing else. Satisfied his bathroom wouldn't be completely destroyed in his absence, Makoto continued down the short hallway to the kitchen.

What to cook a merman for breakfast?

Makoto rifled through the several days' worth of leftovers, wrinkling his nose as he sniffed some of the Tupperware's contents. When his fridge revealed nothing suitable he moved on to the freezer, where he found several cuts of chicken and a fish filet. He set the filet in a bowl of hot water to thaw, but in the meantime he knew he had to produce something else. If the merman was hungry enough to chomp down on a bar of soap that had to smell nothing like food, Makoto couldn't leave him waiting another few hours on frozen fish.

The solution came from the cupboard, in the form of canned tuna. Makoto wondered briefly if the merman would like it, seeing as the creature was most likely accustomed to eating his food raw – which led to worry over whether or not mermaids were even carnivores.

_What if he only eats plants? I guess I could go scoop seaweed from the beach..._

When he had two cans opened and drained, Makoto returned to the bathroom. Right as he walked in the merman's attention snapped to him, concentrating on the movements of his legs as usual. Even with their little exploration of each other's anatomy (a fresh memory which tinged Makoto's cheeks pink) the merman was endlessly curious about how Makoto's legs worked, constantly watching them move and touching them whenever Makoto came close enough.

Makoto sat down heavily on the toilet and passed the merman the first can of tuna. "This should taste better for you."

The merman took the can uncertainly, turning it this way and that to inspect before raising it to his nose for a delicate sniff. The scent obviously appealed to him, for soon the bathroom was filled with pleased whistles as the merman shoved little handfuls of tuna into his mouth.

Makoto laughed softly. "You like it? Good. For a while I wasn't sure you'd eat it."

A pink tongue darted out to lick around the rim of the can. Makoto tried not to track its progress, but in the end he couldn't help himself. He justified his interest as only natural – scientific, even – given what they'd done in this very bathtub mere hours ago. The retention of the merman's hands on him, so cold and yet capable of blazing a trail of fire in their wake as they roamed Makoto's body, sent tingles down his spine. Makoto shifted, toes curling against the tile and immediately capturing the merman's attention.

Holding on to the can of tuna with one hand, the merman reached out with the other to grab Makoto's big toe. He met Makoto's eyes enquiringly and Makoto gave an easy smile.

"Toes," he said, and wriggled his toes for emphasis.

Blue eyes sparkled in delight, and the merman carefully fitted the tip of a webbed finger between each toe. "Toes," he repeated in his low, musical voice. He moved his hand over Makoto's foot to the bump of his ankle, then up a little higher. "Lllegs."

When those eyes locked on his for confirmation, Makoto nodded. A corner of the merman's mouth lifted in a proud little grin, and then he went back to chewing his tuna. After sufficiently licking the first can clean, he tossed it carelessly away from himself.

Makoto heaved a sigh and watched the first can spin across the bathroom floor. After passing the second can into the merman's waiting hands, he went over and picked the discarded one up. Quickly he rinsed it out so it wouldn't stink, and deposited it properly in the wastebasket beside the toilet.

Luckily for Makoto it was the weekend and, aside from some preliminary research he'd already begun for his invertebrate zoology class, rather light on homework, giving him plenty of time to mull over his options regarding the merman.

Scientific and personal interests aside, in his heart Makoto knew the right course of action would be to bring the merman back to where he'd found him. However much he didn't want to part with his discovery, he couldn't permanently house the creature in his bathtub. Between work and school schedules it just wasn't feasible; he wouldn't have time to properly care for him. Not to mention animal rights organizations would hang a price on his head if word of the merman's existence ever leaked.

Unfortunate though it was, the merman had to go – and sooner rather than later. Makoto knew better than to attempt the move in broad daylight, though, which gave him at least the rest of the day with the creature. He fully intended to take advantage of the precious hours he had left, and absorb every ounce of information the merman was willing to part with.

_And maybe..._

Makoto hastily derailed that train of thought before it progressed any further, averting his gaze from where it had settled on the merman's tail. Now that he knew if its existence, the camouflaged slit in the tail drew his focus far more often than was decent. Makoto pressed a hand to his face to hide his embarrassed flush. The merman was lapping at his meal quite leisurely this time around; scooping out bits with his tongue in a way that reminded Makoto of the dainty bites a cat takes.

Warmth spread down Makoto's neck and chest, and Makoto wished he still had his shirt on to hide it because at that moment the merman chose to look at him, locking his blue eyes on Makoto as his tongue curled invitingly into his mouth.

"Makoto!" Makoto said suddenly, just for the need to say _something_. The merman tilted his head to the side and Makoto stammered and backtracked and tried to remember where he'd intended for his outburst to go. "M-my name, I mean." He pointed to himself. "Tachibana Makoto."

The merman lifted a hand and pointed at Makoto, then raised his eyes to Makoto for guidance. It was kind of cute; the merman's own drive to learn about Makoto. Most often he mimicked Makoto's movements, the sounds he made. Makoto was hoping he'd do the same now.

"Makoto," he said again.

The merman pursed his lips, and then tried the name on his own. Makoto wondered what it took, to switch to human from his natural speech. Did the sounds come from different areas in the merman's throat, or was it all the same?

"Mmmaa.. Mak..."

Makoto chuckled softly. Blue eyes sharpened into a glare. "Sorry!" It was just too adorable, watching the merman struggle to get his name out. "It's a bit more difficult because it's three syllables. Try it again. I won't laugh, I promise! Makoto."

The merman turned his face to the side, pouting, and for a moment Makoto feared he'd really offended him. Then those supple lips parted. "Ma…ko...to," the merman worked his way slowly through the name.

Makoto's heart skipped a beat.

"Mako...to," the merman said again. "Makoto."

"That's great," Makoto breathed. By now even the tips of his ears were red. He didn't think he'd ever been so thrilled to hear his own name – except for maybe the day the twins first pronounced it correctly, but that was totally different. That hadn't stuttered his heartbeat so severely, or spread a fierce ray of warmth to his groin the way his name in on the merman's lips did. "Do... you have a name?" he asked, when he found he could speak again.

Another bout of silence filled the room, during which Makoto's shoulders slumped a bit.

He instantly noted the difference when the merman whistled at him next. The sound started out high, then dropped to a lower pitch and ended with a firm click. He repeated himself a few times, until Makoto understood the significance of the sound. In his marine mammals seminar he remembered learning dolphins did something similar, created a unique whistle that differentiated them from the rest of the pod. Names, in a sense.

It was a musical arrangement of notes, pleasing to the ears, but nothing that Makoto could hope to replicate. "What can I call you?" He wondered if the merman would understand why Makoto couldn't call him by his identification sound. Their species' concept of names, while theoretically the same, was profoundly different. Maybe he could come up with his own name for the merman? Even if the creature didn't understand it, it would at least be better than Makoto constantly referring to him as 'the merman' in his mind.

The merman seemed to contemplate his words. Blue eyes traveled over the room as he brought a hand to his chin. He repeated his unique whistle twice; the first time it sounded as it should – the transitioning high to low notes followed by the single sharp click – but as he repeated it his voice took on a more definite human quality. "Haahrooo-ka."

Stunned by the familiar syllables, which did indeed form a recognizable name in Japanese, Makoto grinned excitedly. "Haruka?"

The merman nodded decisively. "Haruka."

The name was typically reserved for girls, but considering the femininity of his own name and the fact he was dealing with a creature that shouldn't exist outside of mythology, Makoto refrained from pointing that out. Besides, he liked the name; it suited the merman, who was so pretty and delicate despite being male.

Therein Makoto realized his mistake – that putting a name to the creature made things worse, not better. Because he was no longer a discovery made on the beach, something Makoto could return just as easily as he'd found it. A bond was created through naming something, and Makoto had been hesitant enough to let go of the merman before he ever became _Haruka_. Bringing him back now would be so much harder.

But Makoto couldn't take it back – and even if he could, he didn't think he'd want to.

"Well, Haruka," Makoto said, kneeling beside the tub. "It's a pleasure to properly meet you."

Haruka clicked as Makoto held a hand out in greeting, the custom obviously lost on him. When Makoto shook his hand, Haruka squeezed his fingers with far more force than necessary. "Legs," he said.

Hunger sated for the moment, Haruka's incessant mind had returned to the original great wonder the human world presented, and Makoto couldn't smother his laughter fast enough. He didn't know if he was quite up for a repeat of what happened earlier, though – not yet, at least; he needed time to assess his feelings on the situation first.

So, unwilling to let Haruka go to town on his legs again, Makoto set out to distract the merman with some other new vocabulary.

First he picked up a fluffy green-and-white towel from the nearest rack. "Towel," he said. He wrapped it around his shoulders and mimicked drying his hair. When he passed it over to Haruka, the merman took it carefully, bringing it up to his face. "You use it to dry off when you're wet. And… uh…" His voice trailed off as Haruka proceeded to wrap the towel around his entire head, obscuring his face from view. Quickly Makoto untied it, ignoring Haruka's whistles of protest. He really was a hardheaded creature.

He supposed a merman wouldn't have need of a towel. Then again, everything in the bathroom was a luxury a water-inhabiting species had no use for. Still, Makoto neatly folded and returned the towel to its original place, nibbling on his bottom lip as he wondered what else he could introduce Haruka to. Something Haruka could actually pass time with.

Living day-to-day in the same apartment, using the same appliances without second thought, nothing in the sparse bathroom sparked interest; but once Makoto took the time to see the room from Haruka's perspective, things ordinarily lost in the periphery of the day suddenly jumped out at him.

He grabbed his toothbrush from the glass cup by the sink and waved it in Haruka's direction. "This is a toothbrush," he explained, and offered it to Haruka. He always kept a spare in the medicine cabinet, so Haruka could do as he pleased with this one so long as he didn't try shoving it down his throat or something.

Haruka rotated the toothbrush over and over in his hands, tilting his head to the side as he studied it from all angles. One silvery finger traced lightly over the bristles and his eyes widened as if struck by realization. A higher-pitched exclamation preceded a jumble of humanistic sounds in a language Makoto did not recognize as, with new vigor, Haruka raised the toothbrush and started to run it over his hair.

Makoto nearly choked on his spit, on his feet in an instant. Haruka turned quizzical eyes on him and Makoto couldn't help himself. Laughter bubbled up in his throat, because it was just too funny – this hybrid creature whom from the waist up appeared to be a fully grown man, grooming his hair with a _toothbrush_, of all things, and seeming damned near elated about it.

Still giggling to himself, Makoto opened the top drawer of the vanity and pulled out a normal fine-toothed comb. "I think you mean this."

Haruka glanced between the toothbrush and the comb, and then held out the toothbrush to trade. Makoto gently urged his hand away, taking a moment to observe the frayed, semitransparent lavender fin attached near the merman's elbow, which he could only guess served a similar purpose to a fish's pectoral fin. Then he sat down on the lip of the tub and brought the comb to Haruka's hair, beginning to brush through the silky black strands.

Haruka locked eyes with him, and Makoto tried not to blush under the intense, unblinking gaze. He combed Haruka's hair in silence, untangling the few knots he happened across, and all the while Haruka's body sunk further and further into the tepid water, relaxation slowly weighing on his eyelids. By the time Makoto finished, Haruka's eyes were closed and his lips parted as he released soft, encouraging little sounds from the back of his throat.

Makoto set the comb aside, suddenly tired himself. It had to be going on twenty-four hours now since Makoto had last slept, the events of the previous night preventing him from leaving the bathroom for more than a few minutes at a time. Haruka was rather docile when not mindlessly driven by his curiosity, so Makoto probably could have caught a nap in his bed at some point – done so now, even, while the merman appeared to sleep – but doubt gnawed at his insides. He was afraid of what he would find if he left for too long – terrified of walking into the bathroom and discovering it empty, Haruka nothing more than the dream Makoto first believed him to be when he found him on the beach.

Gently he traced the operculum marring Haruka's sides like thin gashes, watching the flaps sway as his hands disturbed the shallow water. The water could probably use changing again. He'd refilled the tub three times over already, first when it had felt too cool to the touch, then when he noticed a buildup of Haruka's scales along the surface, and the third time after Haruka swished his lunate tail to dispense a peculiar teal liquid that had gathered beneath it.

His eyes wandered to the places his hands could not reach, over the rounded, pearlescent scales on the merman's curved tail, to the frayed base fins and then back up to the hidden slit between small twin pelvic fins. The desire to touch intensified, bringing heat to Makoto's skin and making him swallow thickly.

Even with all the merman's eccentricities, something about him appealed to Makoto in a highly unnatural way. Their kinds were not meant to coexist, largely why Haruka's species maintained only as fiction in Makoto's world; but for some reason fate brought them together, and the only thought in Makoto's mind now was that he did not want to let Haruka go. Makoto was not the sort of person prone to selfishness, but all he wanted was to wrap his arms around Haruka and revel in the cool press of his body forever.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Makoto smiled wryly at the answering silence. He didn't know if Haruka was awake or not – he hadn't moved in a while, or made any kind of sound to alert Makoto of his consciousness – but he doubted the merman would understand him anyways. Did his kind fall in love, or did they simply mate out of a desire to feel pleasure? Makoto didn't think they did so only to procreate; otherwise, Haruka wouldn't have wanted to touch him so intimately before. "It's silly, I know. Nagisa would say I read too many romance novels."

The oldest legends about mermaids warned of enchanting voices and creatures of ethereal beauty that tempted sailors to their deaths. They captivated and drowned their victims, and the idea that he might just willingly be following Haruka to his own watery grave sent chills down his spine.

Then a hand cupped his cheek, cool and comforting, and Haruka brought their faces closer together so that their foreheads touched. He whistled softly, two high notes full of longing. "_Nulma_." The word echoed off the bathroom walls, but Haruka hadn't opened his mouth to say it. His blue eyes bore into Makoto's and, _yes_, this must be how those ill-fated sailors felt moments before they were dragged under the waves: petrified but helpless, unwilling to free themselves even if they could.

Makoto carefully covered Haruka's hand in his own, adoring the little smile that pulled at Haruka's lips. He wanted to kiss him, wanted to slide into the tub with him and merge them a whole new species the world had never seen before, would never see again. He wanted Haruka. "It means love, doesn't it?"

Interesting, how Haruka could make those faint clicking noises even as he pressed his lips to Makoto's. This only distracted him for a moment, about until Haruka pried Makoto's mouth open and began to suck on his tongue.

Makoto wasn't new to kissing; he'd had a girlfriend in high school, and during his first semester of university he'd experimented for the first time with a guy. But none of that experience compared to kissing Haruka. There was nothing gentle about it – no teasing nibbling on his bottom lip, or intimate twining of their tongues. Haruka kissed him as if staking a claim: mapping out every square inch of Makoto's mouth, _biting_ with those little teeth sharp enough to draw blood. When Makoto pulled away for air, Haruka purposely cut his own bottom lip, licked it up, and then leaned back in to paint Makoto's tongue red. Tasting copper, Makoto instinctively jerked back.

"_Llo ffha."_ Again the voice resonated without Haruka even having to open his mouth. Makoto gawked, shock rendering him speechless. Haruka's eyes were passionately bright. Both of his hands settled on Makoto's face, one on each side, and he kissed Makoto again. "_Makoto_ _bi llo ffha_."

His body felt heavy, lethargic in a way he'd never experienced before. It was as if there were chains around his limbs, dragging him down to some abyss. He couldn't fight back, and all the while Haruka's mouth devoured him.

Thoughts of the sailors damned by the siren's call stalked him like silent predators as his eyelids drooped and he slipped into unconsciousness.

**' ' '**

Makoto dreamed of facing turbulent seas from the helm of a majestic wooden ship. Mightily though she was built, a manmade vessel was no match against Neptune's wrath, and soon she crumbled to forces far beyond her control. Makoto was sent crashing into the waves amongst the wreckage, and could do little else but watch the distorted orb of the moon grow more and more distant as he sank. Some part of him thought he should be afraid, but another voice, soothing and low, drowned his worry.

_Follow me,_ the voice sang. Piercing blue eyes beckoned him from the depths. The last air escaped his lungs in a rush of bubbles. _Follow me._

**' ' '**

A strange smell filled the apartment.

Makoto hadn't noticed it at first, still couldn't pinpoint when exactly he'd caught the first whiff, but now the sweet, heady scent permeated all six-hundred square feet, from the narrow _genkan_ to his bedroom. It took him a little while, after making sure the windows were all closed and he hadn't left any food out, to distinguish Haruka as the source of the smell.

After his fretful nap on the bathroom floor, Makoto had tried to distance himself. He knew it was wrong, awful of him to get so worked up over a nightmare to a point where he ignored the creature he'd brought under his own roof, but he couldn't face Haruka yet. Each despondent whistle and call of his name stabbed at his heart, but Makoto distracted himself with tidying the apartment. After a while, the noises stopped.

Even as he willed himself passed the bathroom without taking more than a cursory peek inside, Makoto couldn't ignore the desire that wormed inside of him, relentless. In the back of his mind he heard the seductive voice from his dream calling out to him.

How much longer could he resist it – resist Haruka?

The sun had just begun to dip beyond the horizon when Makoto returned to the bathroom with the now-thawed filet of whitefish. Haruka lounged in tub facing the opposite direction than before, in the middle of some bizarre grooming ritual that involved finger-combing his hair and then sliding his hands down over his arms or stomach. It didn't make sense to Makoto until he got a bit closer – the musky fragrance assaulting his senses and stirring an unexpected response in his body – and noticed the oily coating on Haruka's webbed fingers.

Makoto itched for a closer look, but forced himself to merely watch the mermaid equivalent of moisturizing. Again Haruka combed through his hair, silver hands coming away shiny with oil from the glands hidden beneath the thick black locks, and then rubbed the oil into his skin. The more he did it the heavier the scent in the air became, and the hotter Makoto felt; but Makoto had yet to make that connection in his mind.

Clearing his throat, Makoto held the plate out. "Haruka, I brought you food."

Haruka paused for just a second, and then went right back to what he was doing, snubbing the meal. Makoto wondered if it was payback for the way he'd avoided the bathroom for most the afternoon. Did mermaids hold grudges?

"I guess I'll leave it here..."

Haruka dutifully ignored the plate Makoto set down within reaching distance. Straightening to his full height, Makoto scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

Once Haruka finished coating his torso, his tail received the same attention. All the while he snuck coy glances in Makoto's direction, until finally Makoto questioned the timing. Haruka had gone all day without doing this, so why now? Was it supposed to signify something? And what about the _smell_? Makoto didn't think it was coming from the merman's self-produced oils, but – well, what else could it be?

"In a few hours I'll... I'll bring you b-back to the beach." Makoto cursed the stutter in his voice. He didn't know how he'd gotten so turned on, so quickly. There was nothing particularly erotic about Haruka's actions. The way he kept looking at Makoto could be called flirtatious, he supposed, but still... That was no excuse for the embarrassing tent in Makoto's pants.

If he had any sense at all, he would turn around and run. Flee the bathroom and distract himself somehow until it was time to return Haruka to the beach. Already he knew, though, that there would be no point in trying. He had a strange, intuitive sense that wasn't what Haruka wanted, and an even stranger _need _to do whatever it took to please Haruka.

_Why do I need to? _

Haruka's silver hands continued to work oil into the scales of his tail, just below the slit. Makoto's own hands gravitated toward the front of his pants. An encouraging series of clicks resounded as Makoto unclasped the button and tugged the zipper down, his cheeks flaring. "This is you, isn't it?" His breath hitched as he shoved his hand passed the elastic of his boxers to grip the hardening flesh concealed beneath. "You're-you're doing something."

Haruka tipped his head back against the rim of the tub, a secretive grin curling his lips slightly upward. He moved his hands away from his tail and spread his arms in an invitation Makoto didn't need long to accept. His body moved as if of it's own accord, stepping out of his pants and practically tumbling headfirst into the tub for the chance to kiss Haruka again. The phantom press of the merman's lips had lingered the entire afternoon, and Makoto yearned for its biting force again.

The cool slide of Haruka's tail between his legs was a much welcome intrusion. Makoto parted his legs, dipped to press his forehead against Haruka's neck. He could smell the oil on Haruka's skin and it was intoxicating. On impulse he licked over the curve of Haruka's shoulder, and the answering noise from the merman made his cock twitch.

If Haruka were a regular human boy, Makoto had no doubt about how things would progress. Makoto would lay him down and kiss every inch of the lithe body he could get a hold of, and only when Haruka was trembling and just on the verge of begging would Makoto finally sink into him. But Haruka wasn't ordinary and he wasn't human – it was debatable whether Makoto would even want him so badly if he was (though he had a feeling he wouldn't be able to resist no matter what form Haruka took) – and so Makoto was thoroughly at a loss for how to proceed.

He knew what he wanted to do, and that was to explore in far greater detail than he'd tentatively done earlier. Haruka's body was a secret wonderland of discovery, untouched, as far as Makoto awareness extended, by any other human. The sole pioneer of a new world, Makoto was eager to map out each dip and valley, trace the contours with his tongue and nip at every angle; and as much as he saw, he did not think he could ever, ever get enough.

Curling an arm around Haruka's waist, Makoto hoisted him closer. His arm slipped against the lubricated skin, but he held tight while his other hand skirted down over Haruka's gills. Haruka's chest expanded as he inhaled sharply, gills fluttering with the movement. Makoto wondered how they worked. The way Haruka's chest rose and fell made it seem as if he breathed through a normal set of lungs, but the gills threw a very problematic wrench in that theory.

He supposed he would never have an answer, unless someone else happened upon this same discovery. As far as Makoto was concerned, the functions of Haruka's body could remain a mystery; he had no intention of turning the merman over to any scientific authority.

Bringing his hand back up, he cupped Haruka's cheek and gently tilted his head back to give himself access to the soft underside of his throat, where he suctioned a kiss. Haruka vaulted his tail, brow furrowed in frustration. His hands rested at Makoto's thighs, idly trailing up and down and sending pleasant shivers down Makoto's thighs. His legs still ranked as the merman's favorite feature, just as Makoto couldn't get over the unfathomable tail rubbing adamantly against his erection.

Something that was not Haruka's hand brushed the inside of his thigh. Makoto pulled back from the delectable column of Haruka's throat to stare down their bodies. Haruka squirmed beneath him, and Makoto caught sight of the odd, pinkish flesh poking out from the tail slit.

Haruka gave a low, yearning whistle, eyes falling shut as he pressed his tail up so they were intimately flushed against each other.

Makoto stiffened, a gasp tearing from his lips. "I don't know what to do," he said in an unintelligible rush. Haruka's eyes cracked open to consider him, and Makoto shuddered at how lust had clouded them to the near black of the ocean's depths. "I want to fuck you," he admitted, and then ducked his head. The shame of his deep-rooted passion fueled the already hot blush on his cheeks. "But I don't know how."

A moment passed in silence, and then Haruka reached down and took hold of himself. Makoto sat back and watched. Haruka took his time, seeming to have a plan but not in any rush to see it realized.

It took great effort not to touch. Makoto inhaled slowly and bit the inside of his cheek. His cock throbbed against his stomach. Haruka noticed all of this and admonishingly clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, eyes sensually half-lidded. "Makoto," he whispered, arching and giving a light squeeze that Makoto swore he could feel through his own body.

With a needy moan, Makoto tried to grasp Haruka's wrist. Haruka only batted him away and continued to pleasure himself.

"Let me," Makoto insisted, but Haruka's one-track mind successfully tuned him out.

And very soon, Makoto saw why.

Under Haruka's careful attention, the fevered skin flourished and bloomed like the petals of an exquisite flower. He'd never seen anything like it before; another mystery about this strange creature that awakened a possessive side of Makoto that had long been dormant.

Rather than flooded by torrent of new questions, somehow he knew what it meant; a part of an instinct that should not belong to him seized Makoto, and the next step became clear to him.

Taking Haruka's hand, he kissed the inside of the palm reverently. Haruka leaned forward and pressed their lips together, a thorough distraction as he slid himself around so he was on top.

"_Makoto bi llo ffha_," came the sensual whisper of his voice again, from somewhere other than his occupied mouth. Perhaps just in Makoto's mind, a memory to make his toes curl as a tight heat enveloped him from root to tip. Haruka impaled himself on Makoto without batting an eyelash, accepting him with a fluid ease that made Makoto believe they were always meant to become one.

Makoto gasped, hips jerking impulsively into the welcoming, wet heat. "Haruka—Ha-Haru—"

Haruka's tail wormed underneath his legs, twining around him, and sucked Makoto into him deeper still. With a groan Makoto snapped his hips forward, reaching up to grip Haruka's shoulder.

Damn, this was difficult in the bath. If Haruka had legs – or even if he'd remained underneath Makoto – that would have been different. As it was, Makoto scrambled for purchase on the bath's slippery surface. Haruka's eyes twinkled as they watched his struggle. Never one to give up easily, Makoto managed to hook a leg around the merman, giving him decent enough leverage to establish a steady rhythm once he'd also gotten a sure grip on the tub.

It was so much better than what they'd done before. Not that that hadn't been amazing as well; this was just on an entirely new level. Makoto didn't think he could have sex as an ordinary human being again. Nothing would be able to compare to the incredible tightness, the way Haruka's body ate him up and demanded more, squeezing around Makoto and inviting him deeper. No woman's lips could leave such a blazing trail of kisses down his chest; make him jump at every playful or controlling hint of teeth. Nothing would ever compare to Haruka.

_I want you forever_, said each fervent grind of Makoto's hips.

_Then have me,_ Haruka's eyes answered. He laved at Makoto's chest with his tongue and then latched on just over Makoto's heart, teeth biting gently into the skin.

Makoto cried out, heart skipping a beat.

Without a second thought he reversed their positions, pounding into Haruka with renewed vigor. Water sloshed over the rim of the tub, flooding the bathroom floor, but that didn't matter when Haruka's tail curled around him, when Haruka's silvery fingers raked down his back, when Haruka's mouth finally detached from him and left a neat little imprint of teeth around his heart.

Makoto didn't last much longer. The sweet smell in the air had only grown heavier, clouding his mind, but what really pushed him over the edge was the way Haruka's inner walls began to pulsate around him. Almost like a woman reaching her orgasm, but at the same time completely different, because inside of Haruka Makoto felt a light caress against his length, followed by two more. Three feather-soft, thread-like appendages clung to him, vibrating with each pulse that rocked Haruka's body.

Two... three... four shallow thrusts, and Makoto shuddered, burying himself to the hilt and spilling into Haruka. He clung weakly to the merman as Haruka milked his orgasm. When the three little stems finally released him, Makoto collapsed, thoroughly drained. Haruka did not protest his weight, instead wrapped his arms loosely around his middle, clicking affectionately.

As with the last time they'd been physically intimate, Makoto felt a cloying insecurity in the pit of his stomach. He did not regret what he'd done – this closeness with Haruka was something he would carry with him for the rest of his life. But that changed very little. As soon as the streets of Iwatobi were deserted Makoto would have to return Haruka to the beach. Despite the yearning to stay by Haruka's side, intensified tenfold by their coupling, the fact remained they would probably never see each other again after this night. Once Haruka disappeared beneath the waves, god knew where the ocean would take him.

_Is there any way I...?_

The question dissipated even before it could fully formulate in Makoto's mind, unraveled by the sorrowful flutter of Haruka's lashes. Where Haruka went, Makoto could not follow. Such a feat was impossible for man, and even were it not Makoto did not know if he could relinquish his whole life on land. Iwatobi was his home, where his family and friends here; he had a life he could not so easily abandon.

Makoto would have to remain content with only a memory.

Even as he held Haruka in his arms, the merman's head tucking under his chin, he knew it would not be enough. Haruka had drawn him in, drowned his hope for any sort of a normal life, and now Makoto did not know how he could possibly hope to exist without him.

Haruka's lunate tail fin swayed over the edge of the tub, the slow back-and-forth motion reflecting the despondency in both their hearts. Makoto fought the sting of tears in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered when a cool hand ghosted under his eye. Haruka stared at the tears slipping down his cheeks with muted surprise. "I shouldn't be crying." Haruka had given him something special, let him glimpse into a world most humans could never hope to see in their lifetimes. He should feel honored, humbled - and he did, he was extremely grateful, but a cavernous sorrow outweighed all other emotion. "I'm happy – I really am – but I... I hate that I'll never see you again. I really hate it." He scrubbed his eyes forcefully with the back of his palms.

Haruka brought their faces closer together so their noses touched. His eyes bore into Makoto's, but Makoto was too distraught to read whatever message the merman tried to impress upon him. With a huff, Haruka took Makoto's wrist and brought his hand to rest at the center of that shallow chest. Beneath his fingertips Makoto could feel a steady beat.

"Makoto," Haruka murmured softly. Makoto took a shuddering breath. Haruka then placed his free hand on the mark he'd left on Makoto's chest over his heart. "Haruka."

Fresh tears welled in Makoto's eyes.

It wasn't a definite promise that what they'd shared could last, but Makoto would take it. He kindled that small hope like a newly birthed flame, letting it warm and soothe him.

For now, it would have to be enough.

* * *

**Lawli: **_So I figure this story has raised a bunch of questions, because there were a lot of questions I had to ask myself while writing. I've tried to explain my thought process as best as I could, but if there is something I've missed feel free to ask!_

_WTF is Haruka's junk?_

Ok. I spent way too much time coming up with this. I was inspired a bit by a fantasy novel called '_Enchantments of Flesh and Spirit', _which describes the genitals of its hermaphroditic race as being 'colorful' and 'flower-like', and able to simultaneously be both male and female.

In "_Curiosity_" Makoto encountered the 'male' shape, which is similar enough to a normal human penis, whereas in this story Haruka shows him the female shape, in which the shaft 'blossoms' into something more like a vagina. The little appendages Makoto felt when Haruka orgasmed I imagined to be something like the style of a flower, with a stigma at the top which (instead of pollen) attracts the male's ejaculate. It also holds the sperm it attracts until it can be used to fertilize an egg.

Long story short! Mer!Haruka is a hermaphrodite, able to change his bits from male to female at will, depending on who he's coupling with. For simplicity's sake (and because Makoto obviously doesn't know diddly about mermaids) we're just going to refer to him as a 'he'.

In this world, I've imagined hermaphroditic mer are very rare and prized among their species. They are typically the leaders of their pod, the alpha (so to speak) that the males and females of the group all mate with. While a male and female mer can also mate and have children, it's more desirable to procreate with the third gender because they are typically healthier and more likely to carry a baby to term.

I don't freaking know, people. This is the best I could come up with and I probably really fudged up mermaid folklore in the process, but the idea I read about that mer have a 'third' gender _really_ appealed to me so I ran with it best I could.

…_So WTF was up with that weird smell and the oil?_

Another idea I found that I loved was mer moisturizing using oil produced from glands on their hidden by their hair. They run their hands through their hair, gather the oil, and rub it into their skin and tails. In this universe, female (or hermaphroditic) mer do this only when they wish to attract a mate, as the oil is very pungent and stimulates arousal in males.

So basically Haruka was sick of Makoto ignoring him all afternoon as he already felt rather possessive of his human, and figured this would be the best way to get Makoto to come back to him. Haruka gets what he wants.

_So how does Haruka speak and how much does he actually understand of what Makoto is saying? _

Haruka knows odd phrases and words from human languages and what they mean, but just like in canon he is far more intuitive than he seems. He picks up on things very quickly, and while he may not know exactly what Makoto is saying he gets the basis, most of the time.

Most of the time in the ocean, the mer communicate through whistles and clicks as most sea mammals do; these sounds carry better through the water, and so it is logical they use this method most often. Plus it requires less work, and we all know Haruka is about taking it easy.

However, in moments of intimacy, there is an ancient spoken mer language. It does not consist of many words, though. As they are sharing an intimate moment, Haruka slips into this second language – also probably because he does not know the human equivalent to these words.

_Llo ffha (YOH-fah)_: mine

The following I gathered from mermish dictionaries online, because I totally wasn't creative enough to come up with more than one word. -_-

_Nulma (NOOL-mah):_ love

_Bi (BEE):_ is/are/was/etc

(So Haruka's "_Makoto bi llo ffha_" = "Makoto is mine.")

If you want sources to any of my "research" just let me know!


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